


The Day After

by MissSlothy



Series: Double Trouble [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 13:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16388858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSlothy/pseuds/MissSlothy
Summary: The day after the story before.  Danny wakes up in bed beside Steve...





	The Day After

**Author's Note:**

> Double Trouble was supposed to be just one story but suddenly I've got a series on my hands :)
> 
> UK English. Un-beated.

Danny opens his eyes.  Light is creeping under the blinds, outlining the window against the wall.  He can see the ceiling, the duvet cover and the closed bedroom door.  He’s warm but not excessively so.  The cool breeze coming from the open window isn’t making his skin cringe.  Behind his eyes he’s got a niggling headache but he no longer feels like someone’s swinging a mallet inside his skull.

Beside him, Steve is asleep.

Danny absorbs that fact, trying it on for size.  He’s not panicking.  He’s not ecstatically happy.  He’s just…calm.  _Contented_.  It’s an alien sensation. 

Turning carefully on his side, he reaches out to touch Steve’s shoulder.  It’s not until his fingertips have made contact - and he registers Steve’s still running a temperature – that he remembers springing on him unawares isn’t a good idea. 

As if reading his mind, Steve shifts.  Exhaling gently, he rolls over so he’s facing Danny.  Eyes closed, his eyelids are twitching.  His forehead wrinkles and then in a blink it goes slack again.  There’s silence. Then the sound of snuffled breathing fills the room.

Danny pulls the dislodged duvet back over Steve, registering again the slight flush to his skin.  Gently, he rests the back on his hand on his forehead and tries for another temperature check.

Satisfied it’s coming down, he lets his hand linger.  It’s a surreal sensation watching Steve sleep, almost like floating in a dream state.  He wonders if he opens the bedroom door the fantasy will disappear.  Experience has taught him this is usually the moment the wheels fall off. 

He braces himself for the fall he knows he is coming.

Steve carries on sleeping, his snuffling breaths muted by the duvet.

Danny shakes his head at him.  Only Steve could do this to him, drag him kicking and screaming into something before he’d even had time to kick and scream.  There should have been conversations about this.  _Many_ conversations.  They could have made plans, identified the pitfalls.  They could have worked out whether it was worth the _risk._

_Jesus, babe._

Flopping back on his side of the bed, he stares at the ceiling.  The ceiling stares back at him.  Running his fingers through his hair doesn’t reveal any answers either.  Neither does scratching through his chest hair.

Coffee.  He needs coffee.  His stomach rumbles its approval.

Sliding out of the bed without rousing Steve is surprisingly easy.  Frowning, he finds a tee-shirt and shorts and slips them on.  In the half-darkness he stubs his toe on the bed leg.  Even his muffled curse isn’t enough to wake Steve. Listening, he tilts his head, checks he can still hear breathing.

Signs of life confirmed, he goes in search of coffee.

Emerging out of the bedroom, he winces against the switch to daylight.  Shuffling into the kitchen, he arrows his way to the refrigerator and the supply of fresh coffee.

“Mornin’”

Danny huffs, debates whether to turn round.  A nudge from the lingering flu headache makes the decision for him.  Opening the fridge door reveals the tub of coffee he’s looking for – and a couple of bottles of juice that he doesn’t remember buying but which look suspiciously healthy.   His heart sinks as he realises he’s gonna have to get groceries.  The local store is only five minutes away but the idea of driving makes his body ache.

Flicking open the coffee tub releases an aroma that makes his synapses spark and his mouth water.    Sniffing appreciatively he scoops coffee into a cafetière and puts a pan of water on the hob.  Finally, he turns.

“Don’t,” he warns Junior, who’s sitting at the table, shoulders hunched, head down.  He waves a finger at him, backing up his threat.

“Steve didn’t—”

“Nope,” Danny jumps in, waving the finger.  “Coffee first.”

“Dann—”

 _“Coffee.”_ Danny winces inwardly at how strident his voice sounds.  But he’s had flu, for crying out loud.  And he’d woken up the evening before with a boyfriend he hadn’t even been aware of.  He’s _earned_ this coffee.  The world _owes_ him this coffee.

_You’ve got a boyfriend._

His brain stutters at the thought – then serenely glides onwards, as if his world hasn’t been turned upside down.

_Traitor._

Shoulders slumping, he turns to face Junior.  “Okay.  Out with it.”

Junior looks panicked at the sudden attention.  “Don’t you want to drink your coffee?”

“I swear—”

Raising both hands in surrender, Junior gives in.  “I just…”  He swallows, starts again, his chin coming up.  “I’m sorry.  The Commander—"

“ _Steve.”_

“Steve.  Steve didn’t ask me to take him to your bedroom.  I followed him and then I—"

The pan of water starts bubbling.  Danny raises his hand again.  He pours the water in the cafetière, inhales deeply as the water and coffee mix in perfect alchemy.  Getting two mugs out of the cupboard, he presses down the plunger on the cafetière then pours the coffee.  He takes them to the table and pulls out a chair opposite Junior.

“Drink,” Danny insists, pushing a mug over to Junior when he looks like he’s going to refuse.  “You get any sleep?”

Junior stiffens in his seat.  “I slept fine.”

Danny wraps his hands around his own mug.  It stops him from pinching the bridge of his nose.  “In Charlie’s bed?  I doubt it.”

“I’m good.”

Danny takes a sip of coffee.  It’s too hot to take the gulp he really wants.  And it would have tasted better if he’d brewed it for longer.  But his shoulder muscles start to relax.  “Nine years I’ve been working with Steve,” he says, lifting the mug up to inhale deeply.  “You think I’m gonna believe you?”

Junior’s chin dips down, he looks away.  “No.  I guess not.”

“You guess right.” He takes another sip of the coffee, a longer one.  The flavour registers on his tongue, rolls around his mouth.   His whole body sags happily.   He takes another sip as Junior meets his gaze again.  “You been worrying all night about this?”    

“I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“I could have walked out, right there.  You thought about that?”

“But—”

“Or I could have told Steve to leave.”

“You wouldn’t do—”

“Did you make him?”

“ _No.”_

“So stop feeling guilty.  And drink your coffee. Or at least let me drink mine.”

Junior manages a weak smile.  Danny nods, reassured.  They both sink their noses in their mugs.

A short while later, Junior puts his empty mug down.  He rolls his shoulders, shuffles in his seat.  Danny throws a wistful glance at the still half-full cafetière and waits to see what Junior has to say.  He doesn’t have to wait long.

“You don’t look happy.”

Danny blinks: it’s not the question he was expecting.  It crosses his mind to go with something flippant.  But Junior’s tone is gentle, worried, his big soft heart shining through in his eyes.  There’s a reason Steve’s taken him under his wing. 

Danny gets up to retrieve the cafetière.  He’s got a feeling he’s going to need it.  “I don’t look happy?” he muses, as he fills up their mugs again.  “Maybe that because it’s complicated, huh?”

“Why?”  Junior’s gaze is focused, laser sharp.  He’s identified a problem and he’s going to solve it.

It’s an expression Danny’s very familiar with.  He takes a big gulp of coffee, wincing as the warm liquid slides down his throat.  The person he should actually be having this conversation with is back in his bedroom.  But it’s not as if he’s had time to figure this all out.  A dry-run isn’t the worst idea. 

That assumes of course that he can articulate what he’s feeling.  Staring into his mug, watching the wisps of steam swirling against the darkness of the coffee, he grabs onto the thing that was has always worried him the most:

“He’s my best friend.  I don’t know…”  He takes a mouthful of coffee, swallows hard.  “I don’t want to destroy that.”

Junior runs his thumb around the handle of his mug.  His brow furrows.  “He was sick, you were the person he went to.”

Danny shakes his head.  Last night he hadn’t been sure whether Steve had been aware of what he was doing, that maybe the fever was messing with his brain.  Now, with some coffee in his system, he’s pretty sure Steve did know what he was doing.  But they’ve always been close, watched out for each other.  “Like I said, nine years.  We’ve been through some tough times together.”

Junior puts his mug down.  It hits the table top with a solid clunk.  “With respect, sir, that’s not what that was last night.”

 _No, it wasn’t._ Panic flares in Danny’s chest.  His breath catches.  “Junior.  It’s not that simpl—"

“You were right,” Junior cuts in, leaning in.  “You could have left.  But so could he.”

“He’s still there.”  The words tumble out of Danny’s mouth, relief making his voice drop.  Having the fact acknowledged out loud by someone else makes it so _real._

“You love him?”

 _Too soon.  So much to lose._ “I don’t know…”

“Do you?”  Junior’s leaning in further, one hand curling into a fist as he talks.

Danny exhales, lets all the air in his lungs out slowly.  He could shut this conversation down with a look.  But he’s exhausted and not just from the flu.  Trying to convince himself he’s happy with the life he’s got, forcing himself not to imagine what it could be like, it’s been tiring.  _So_ tiring. 

“Yes,” he confesses around a long inhale.  “I do.”

Junior nods, sharp, decisive.  “Life is precious, sir.  For people like us.”

Danny squints, running the words through his mind.  “You trying to make me feel better?”

“What I meant is—”

Danny gestures with his hand.  “I get it, okay.” He sighs, looking away and back again.  “You never know what’s round the next corner.   We should make the most of every day.”  A pang of sadness squeezes his chest.  “That doesn’t mean everything’s suddenly gonna work out.”

“I know.” 

Danny looks up, meeting Junior’s gaze.  The sadness in his eyes is familiar; a deep, lingering hurt that will never go away.  Steve wears it too. 

“You wanna talk?” he asks, his lips quirking up to soften his approach.

Danny’s not surprised when Junior shakes his head, shifts as if he’s about to get up and withdraw.  Nine years of working with Steve really has taught him a lot.  He’s about to dip in his extensive arsenal of Steve-handling techniques to get Junior to share  - or at least get him thinking about sharing - when the sound of the front door opening stops him.  Frowning, he leans sideways on the stool so he can see through the doorway.

“It’s Tani,” Junior explains.  He’s radiating relief.

Tani appears moments later.  The bags she’s carrying have the name of the local grocery store on them.  Dumping the bags on the table, she grins at Danny.  “You’re looking better.”

“Thank—"

“We were talking,” Junior jumps in, getting to his feet.  Hovering next to the table, he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

 _“Junes.”_ Tani throws a hand up.  Her hair bobs, agitated.  “We _agreed_.”

“I know.  But he came in and I thought—”

“The last thing I said before I went to the grocery store was—”

“I know what we agreed but—"

“Whoa. Whoa.”  Danny rubs his palm across his forehead.  His headache is reminding him he’s due more aspirin.  “Someone wanna tell me what we’re talking about?”

Tani glares at Junior.  Junior shrugs back.

“She wanted me to wait until she got back,” Junior mumbles, staring at his shoes.

“To talk,” Tani clarifies, shooting Junior another glare.

Danny rests his head in hands for a moment.  His hair feels greasy to the touch.  A shower would be good, he thinks vaguely.  But first he got to sort this mess up.  Looking up he finds Tani and Junior watching him.  Tani’s frowning, her arms crossed.  Junior’s got his hands stuffed back in his pockets.  His body is thrumming with tiredness and frustration. 

“Go for a run,” Danny suggests, looking at Junior.  “I’ll give Tani the highlights.”

Junior reacts like a puppy that’s just been told he can go for a walk.  “You sure?”

“There’s a tee-shirt and shorts of Steve’s in the laundry.  Don’t ask,” he adds as Tani opens her mouth to do just that.

She watches Junior go, head-cocked as she listens to him charge through the house.  By the time he shoots out the front door she’s smiling.  It’s taken him less than three minutes for Junior to change and head out.

She returns her attention to Danny.  “How did you do that?”  Her admiration is obvious.

Danny gets to his feet.  He fills the pan again and switches on the hob.  “There’s something you gotta understand about Navy SEALs,” he explains, emptying the used grounds from the cafetière.  “They’re taught how to be ready to go into action at any moment, how to overcome any obstacles in their way.  That’s great when they’re on the frontline.  It’s what keeps them alive.  But back here, in civilian life, there’s nowhere for that energy to go.”

Tani nods in understanding as she starts unpacking the bags.  “They have to find other ways to burn it off.”

Danny sighs as he spoons more coffee into the cafetière.  “Steve used to run for hours when he first came back to the islands.  Usually at 2am.  The big goof thought I didn’t notice.  In the end I’d let him run after the bad guys and I’d follow on behind.  I figured it was better than worrying every morning whether he’d got enough sleep.”

“He doesn’t do it anymore?”

There’s a hopeful note in Tani’s voice that makes Danny look round.   She’s stopped unpacking.  A packet of crackers are clutched to her chest.

Danny cracks a half-smile.  He hopes it’s reassuring.  “Mostly.  Sometimes…”  He shakes his head, wiping the thought, shrugs instead.  “It helps to be prepared.”

“Ah.” The crackers disappear into a cupboard.  “Steve’s clothes in the laundry.”

“Yup.”

The second cafetière of coffee tastes better than the first.  Caffeine shoots straight to his fingers and toes.  It crosses his mind to make his excuses and check on Steve.  But Tani’s loitering.  He gets a clean mug from the cupboard and waves it at her, giving her the choice.  When she nods, he fills it for her.

She sips at cautiously, watching Danny at the same time.  “You’re not angry with Junior, are you?  He’s really worried he’s screwed up.”

Danny scrubs his hand across his face.  Damn it; he _still_ hasn’t taken more aspirin.  “It’s all good,” he reassures her.  “We talked.  He knows it’s not his fault.”

“Okay.” She nods, her expression distant.  “Okay.”  Shaking herself, she focuses back on Danny.  “They’re very alike, aren’t they?”  Danny doesn’t need to ask who she’s talking about.  “Was Steve as…broken?”

Danny nods.  There’s a lump in his throat.  He swallows it down, along with a gulp of his drink.  “We both were,” he replies quietly, as much to himself as to Tani. 

“It’s been a labour of love, huh?”

Danny snorts into his coffee.  He’s never heard it described like that before.

“You’re panicking.”

“I’m not.” Tani raises an eyebrow.  “Okay, maybe I am,” Danny corrects, holding up his thumb and forefinger,  “just a little bit.”

“That’s understandable, it’s a big decision to make.”

“You think?”

“He’s your best friend.  You don’t want to lose him.  I get that—”

“Thanks for the—”

“—but some things – some people - are worth taking a risk for,” she plows on, determination written across her face. 

Danny rubs at his temple.  Tani and Junior, they make everything sound so goddamn easy.  It’s _not._ Behind every love story there’s blood, sweat and tears.  Or in his case, betrayal of the worst kind.  The remembered grief sends a shiver down his spine.

“Here.  Drink this.”

Two aspirin and a glass of water appear on the table in front of him. A hand rests on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry,” Tani says, as he meets her eyes.  “It’s none of our business.  But we’re worried about you, okay?  Both of you.”

Danny puts the tablets on the tip of his tongue.  The glass of cool water is a welcome relief.  He puts the empty glass on the table, running his fingertip around the rim as he thinks.

“What if I screw this up?” he asks eventually, watching the early morning sunlight play across the table top.  “Everything I’ve got here, _everything,_ is connected to Steve.”

Tani pulls out the stool beside him, sits down.  “You won’t,” she says, nudging him with her shoulder. 

Danny shakes his head, adamant.  “You don’t know that.”

Tani shifts up beside him, leans down to catch his gaze.  “Steve won’t let you.  You said it yourself.  He’s always there when he’s needed.  And he’ll always be there for you.”

Danny’s breath catches.  When he’d told Tani that about Steve he’d been speaking from the heart.  His belief in Steve is absolute.  It’s his belief in himself that he struggles with.

“I’m not good with relationships.” He sucks in a shaky breath.  “Rachel,  Melissa…”

Tani nudges him again.  “Those were just the practice runs.”

Danny laughs despite himself.  “And this thing with Steve, this is the real thing?”

She shrugs.  “You said it.”

The doubt is still prowling though, stalking his confidence.  As if watching from a distance he feels himself shake his head.  “I don’t know if I can do this to him.  I can’t take that risk.”

“Danny.”

They both twist round, towards the interloper’s voice.  Steve’s standing in the kitchen doorway, an empty glass in his hand.

“Babe.”  Danny doesn’t realised he’s standing until his hip knocks the table and the empty glass rattles.  “How long you been there?”

Steve’s still wearing his tee-shirt from the day before.  He’s found a pair of Danny’s sweatpants from somewhere; they finish half-way down his calves.  It would be funny, worth a comment, if Steve didn’t look so tired, the skin on his cheek creased from sleep.  It’s his eyes though that draw Danny’s attention: they’re shuttered, closed off.

“Steve…”

“Needed some water,” Steve says quietly.  Looking straight through Danny, he turns his attention on Tani instead.  “Can you give me a ride home?”

“What?”

It’s Tani who’s spoken but it’s Danny who’s moving, his eyebrows drawn together in a deep frown.  Steve’s posture is screaming ‘back off’ and it’s rapidly dawning on Danny why.  “I don’t know what you heard there, babe,” he says, grabbing the glass from Steve before he can protest, “but you’re gonna get back into bed and let me explain.” 

Steve’s mouth is turns down at the edges.  His arms come up, across his chest.

“Move,” Danny instructs, backing up his words with a gentle nudge.  He nudges again and finally Steve gets moving.  Danny’s grateful: he really hasn’t got the energy to deal with a SEAL with serious attachment issues.

As Steve disappears back in the direction of the bedroom, Danny heads for the sink.  Filling up the glass gives him a few precious seconds to get his thoughts together.

“What the _hell_?” Tani says when he turns back.

 _Damn SEALs and their self-sacrificing streak,_ Danny thinks as he grabs the aspirin from the table and heads for the door.  “This might take a while.  Don’t interrupt us unless you hear banging,” he says as he sweeps past Tani, speeding up to catch Steve.

“Banging?”

“Me knocking sense into that idiot’s head,” he clarifies, closing the kitchen door behind him.

H50H50H50

“You,” Danny says, pointing a finger at Steve, “need to get back in bed.” 

Steve’s standing by the other side of the bed.  Arms crossed, chin raised, he looks imperious.  Danny knows better, he can read the emotions swirling in Steve’s eyes.  Anger. Confusion.  Hurt.

“Babe.”  The word slips out quietly, softly, a barely audible plea.  It reflects the exhaustion that’s creeping up on Danny, despite the huge injection of caffeine.  He feels like he could sleep for days.

Steve doesn’t say anything.  But he does get back into bed.  Pulling up the duvet up to his chin, his body ripples in a head to toe shiver.  Tucking his head down, he pulls his knees to his chest.

Danny winces inwardly in sympathy.  Putting down the water and tablets, he throws back the duvet on his side of the bed and climbs in.  Punching his pillows into submission, he leans back against the headboard. Steve’s shoulder muscles are rock hard under his hand.  It’s like trying to move a brick wall.

“Let me.”  _Let me explain.  Let me help you.  Let you hold me._ Danny’s not sure what he’s asking.  But Steve complies anyway, his body unfolding as he stretches out beside Danny.  Steve’s head’s still down – all Danny can see is his hair – but it’s a start.

Danny exhales, concentrates on his breathing.  Back in the safe cocoon of the bedroom, the calm state he’d felt when he woke up is creeping back.  His heartbeat slows, his aching joints relax, dulling to more of an annoyance than a sharp, air-grabbing pain.  Beside him, Steve’s still shivering but the spasms are lessening, his body gradually relaxing, leaning in to Danny’s.

“I know what you think you heard,” Danny says into the half-darkness.  “But it’s not what you think.”  He pauses, waiting for a reaction.  When none comes, he keeps going.  “I’m scared, okay?  What we’ve got now…it’s good.  What if I screw that up?”

For a moment he doesn’t think Steve’s heard him.  His heart sinks, he doesn’t have the energy to say it all again.  Then Steve shifts, brings his head up just far enough so he can talk, just low enough that they don’t have to look at each other.

“You won’t.”

Steve sounds so determined, so sure.  Warmth blooms in his heart.  It’s not really an answer though.  “I know you think you can solve anything, babe, but relationships aren’t like that.”

Finally Steve shifts, looks up.  His eyes look huge in his pale face.  “You think I don’t know that?”

Meeting Steve’s gaze is fatal.  Everything he’s feeling is right there.  Danny shuts his eyes, tells himself to breath.  His head thuds against the wall as he slumps back.  “You could have just said something.”

Steve snorts in reply. 

Danny opens his eyes again, mock-glares.  “What?  Normal people, they tell people that they like them, that maybe they could have a thing together.”

“A _thing_?”

“Steve—"

Steve shuffles in closer, the whiskers on his chin scrapping against Danny’s tee-shirt.  His expression turns serious.  “I tell you I love you all the time, Danny.”

_True._

“And you tell me back.”

_Also true._

“I’ve thought it about okay.  A lot.  What I’d say. Where I’d say it.  Nothing worked.”

_Until last night._

“I dunno.  It felt…right.”

_It was right._

“Look,” Steve continues, his voice gentle, so quiet.  “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.  Everything can go back to the way it was before.”

Danny jerks, Steve’s words tearing through him like an electric shock.   “No.” 

“Danny.”  Steve’s staring at him with panicked eyes. 

Danny grabs Steve’s arm, digs his fingers into the solid muscle.  It quivers under his touch.   “It wouldn’t be the same,” he blurts, not sure where the words are coming from but knowing he needs to make them count.  “I’d know I’d thrown away this chance.”

Steve’s staring at him, not blinking.  “You don’t want to do that?”

Danny runs the answer inside his head.  It’s surprisingly easy to transform the thought into words.  “No. I don’t.”

Steve exhales loudly.  His hand searches out Danny’s.  “So,” he says, his voice ragged,  “where do we go from here?”

It’s Danny’s turn to snort. There’s a hint of hysteria too.  “You’re asking me?”  A glance at Steve has him sobering up quickly: Steve’s so still, waiting.  The blue of his eyes is intense.  Danny clears his throat.  “I’ve thought about it too,” he confesses, his heartrate speeding up.  “You know, what’d be like.  How I’d ask you.”

“Really?”

Danny nudges him.  “Yeah, you goof.  _Really_.”   

Steve shuffles up the bed, so he’s leaning back against the pillows.  The duvet shifts up with him.  His face is inches from Danny’s. For someone who’s suffering from flu he’s suddenly looking very perky. “Where?”

“What?”

“Where were you going to ask me?”

“Oh _come on_ , you didn’t tell me your—”

“Details.  I need details.”

“What?  So you can mock me?”  Danny takes a deep breath, reminding himself that shouting is likely to result in Tani breaking down the bedroom door.  “Fine,” he grumbles under his breath.  “I’ll tell you.  But no mocking.”

Steve shakes his head.  “No mocking.  Affirmative.”

Danny takes another deep breath, then closes his eyes.  It feels like he’s giving away a precious secret.  He’s not sure what it’s going to look like dragged out into the cold light of day.  “The petroglyphs,” he confesses.  “That place, it makes you happy.  I figured…I figured well if you’d ever say yes, then you’d say it there.”

There’s no reply. 

Danny opens his eyes.  There’s a knot of anxiety in his gut that’s growing, threatening to overwhelm him.

Steve’s chin is down, touching his chest.  A muscle in his jaw is twitching.  He’s blinking, like he’s got something in his eye.

“You oka—”

“We should go to the petroglyphs,” Steve cuts in before Danny can finish his question.  His chin comes up, he drags in air like he’s just come up from a deep-sea dive.  Eyes focused on the window in front of him, he fingers curl into the duvet.  “That’d be good.  Maybe in a couple of weeks.”  He nods to himself, as if coming to a decision.   Head whipping round, he locks eyes with Danny.  “You wanna do that?”

Danny blinks back at him, processing the information.  He feels like he’s on a see-saw, trying to stay upright.  “Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“Yes?” Steve nods his head.  Then he shakes it.  “Maybe?”

The laughter bubbling up in Danny’s chest is unstoppable.  The expression on Steve’s face sums up everything about their new relationship.  Confused.  Anxious.  But mostly happy.  He can’t remember Steve ever looking that happy before.  He can’t remember anyone ever looking at _him_ like that before.

Understanding hits him like a speeding train.  The laughter expands, lifts him up until he feels like he’s standing on top of the world.  Before he even realises what’s he’s doing, he’s planting a kiss on Steve’s lips.

Steve puckers up his lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be kissing him.  He runs his fingers through Danny’s hair, pulling him closer.  Their bodies shift without conscious thought.  Mirroring each other, their limbs entwine.

It’s not the mind-blowing first kiss moment that Danny’s occasionally dreamed of.  Neither of them are feeling that great.  But when eventually Steve pulls away – after dipping back in to snatch another cheeky kiss - and curls up beside him, the feeling’s better than anything Danny’s dreamed of. 

He’d die a happy man if he could do that again.

 _You will,_ a voice in his head reminds him.  His heart speeds up, nervous excitement kicking in.  This is real.  And the wheels won’t fall off this time.  He won’t let them.  Just as important, _Steve_ won’t let them. 

Perhaps sensing where Danny’s thoughts are taking him, Steve lifts his head, his forehead crinkling in a frown.

“I’m good,” Danny reassures him, lifting an arm to allow Steve to tuck in further. 

And for the first time in a long time, Danny realises, he’s not lying to himself.

The End.


End file.
